


the ginger and the swede; drabble collection

by hlundqvists



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, New York Rangers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 05:15:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2138367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hlundqvists/pseuds/hlundqvists
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is just going to be multiple chapters of drabbles that I have written on my blog for Hank/Marc in result of being given prompts and am transferring over here! I'm sure that I will be adding more and more as time goes by because I have such a weak spot for these two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. short drabbles

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to follow me on tumblr, my blog is [here](http://hlundqvists.tumblr.com/)! Feel free to send me prompts whenever you want!
> 
> I'm posting the shorter drabbles together in this first chapter. c:

_Written for the hugs/cuddle meme[here](http://sevencorvus.tumblr.com/post/57768183757/cuddles-hugs-meme)_.

He’s been standing under the spray of the shower for nearly an hour, fingertips turned to prunes and a slight chill running through his body. He knows that he should turn the water off, grab a towel and start to warm himself up but he just can’t move. 

Replays of the puck coming at him are flashing through his mind. The thoughts of “no, not again, not again” playing on a continuous loop as the soundtrack accompanying the images. He makes a little noise, trying to bite it back but can’t hold it in.

The moment it escapes, the water is being shut off and a towel is draped over his shoulder but… wait, no, this isn’t right. He’s _not moving_. Strong hands grab his hips, pulling him away from the shower; moving to rub the towel across his skin to dry him off and it’s not until he’s forced to turn around and pulled into an embrace that he recognizes Hank.

"It’s okay, älskling. I have you. It’s okay."

He grabs onto Hank, a full body shudder hitting him when Hank gently presses a kiss to the scar near his eye.

"I won’t let anything hurt you. I have you."

He believes Hank. He always does.

**||||||**

_Written for the prompt, "Hank/Marc - the bet!" from[ifonlynotnever](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ifonlynotnever)_.

Hank’s smirk is wide, bright. There’s a hint of danger to it that makes Marc feel the need to bite his tongue, holding back any sounds that might try to force their way out of his throat.

"So," the words fall from Hank’s lips in such a seductive way. "I’m fairly certain you owe me a beer now."

Marc swallows, glancing from Hank to the guys still surrounding them in the locker room. No one is paying them much attention, too busy with getting showered and dressed in order to go out and celebrate the win with friends and family.

"I guess I do."

Hank grins, stepping closer until he’s got Marc backed up against his stall, hands coming to rest against his hips.

He leans in, lips less than an inch away from Marc’s. “I wonder what else you’ll give me tonight.”

The words cause the reaction Hank was seeking, a shiver running down Marc’s body as his eyes darken and breath catches.

"I guess we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?"

**||||||**

_Written for the prompt, "throne - hank/marc" from[ifonlynotnever](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ifonlynotnever), again. c:_

There’s never been a doubt in Marc’s mind that Henrik is _the_ King. He’s an incredible force, seeming to be just superhuman all the time. He has earned his title over and over again and nothing will take it away. Not in Marc’s eyes.

Not even in the moments when Hank seems to break and crumple. When the walls come down and he’s left vulnerable, scared. Even then, Marc treats Hank like the royalty he is. 

Hank’s throne is his body and Marc is privileged to be the one who touches it, who sits on it, cradles it, caresses it and takes care of it. He always keeps his touches gentle in the moments of insecurity that Hank feels. He always makes sure that love and respect is felt with each touch.

Hank might not always believe in himself and the title that the City has given him, but there’s never a moment that passes where he doesn’t rule Marc’s entire world and Marc is certain to let him know that.


	2. breaking the rules

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [this meme](http://fogsblue.tumblr.com/post/86021694055/send-a-number-or-2-and-a-pairing-and-ill-try-and).
> 
> Prompt was number 20, 'breaking the rules'.

There’s never a dull moment with Marc.

Henrik learned that quickly after only a week of finally being _with_ him. Each day was filled with quick moments of stolen kisses when no one was looking, lingering touches out on the ice and glances exchanged that anyone could notice.

It was a thrill to be with Marc. Electricity constantly flying between them.

Hank didn’t know how he had lived before this. Truly lived. There had always been something missing from his life and that was Marc.

Marc and his need to push the boundaries, to test to limits of the rules set for them.

Hank knew that he shouldn’t give in so easily, that he should fight back and tell Marc “ _no_ " before this grew into something too dangerous for either of them to control.

But, well…

When Marc comes up to him after practice and whispers into his ear that he wants Hank to teach him a _real lesson_ in the penalty box….. 

Hank can’t say no. He just can’t.

They’re pushing their limits here and soon it’s going to come back to haunt them but right now, neither of them really cares to stop.


	3. all i ask

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the same meme as the previous chapter.
> 
> Prompt was number 30, 'all i ask'.

He’d fallen asleep in a tangle of limbs, warmth, and just pure contentment. Whatever worries about being swept from the playoffs far from his mind as Hank had slowly taken him apart with just his mouth and fingers. It was the best way to spend a night preceded by endless days of stress. He knew that Hank needed it, too.

Hank needed to take care of him. Marc knew this and accepted it for what it was. Whatever Hank needed of him, Marc would give in a heartbeat.

But right now, in the moments of waking, there’s something that Marc needs to ask of Hank. 

He lets himself wake up slowly, then waits. Gaze locked onto Hank’s features, taking in the way his shoulders seem less tense, body relaxed. Marc can’t resist the temptation to lean in to mouth at the side of Hank’s neck, the way the light of dawn filtering in lights up his skin making it seem so delectable. 

A few minutes of gentle kisses and light nips succeed in bringing Hank out of his dreams, back to consciousness. He makes a light ‘hmm’ noise, bringing a hand up to rest against Marc’s shoulder.

Marc lifts his head, eyes serious as he catches Hank’s gaze.

"I need you to do something for me, babe."

Hank furrows his brow. “Of course, älskling. Anything for you.”

Marc pauses, then speaks. “If… If the outcome of the game isn’t what we want, promise me you won’t take all the blame. Promise me that you won’t blame yourself for it. That’s all I ask, okay?”

Hank tenses a bit against Marc, his breath catching a bit.

"I…. I can try."

It’s the best answer that Hank can possibly give him right now. Marc knows that. So he smiles and kisses Hank’s neck once more, lingering there to murmur against his skin.

"I’ll help you. I’ll _always_ be here to help you.”


	4. diner au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for one of many AU memes that are constantly floating around tumblr!
> 
> The prompt given was 'All night diner at two in the morning AU' and the pairing was up to me so, of course, I picked Hank/Marc. Because I am sooooo weak for these two. Also Ras gave me the prompt and she's my biggest Hank/Marc influence so it just made sense.

Marc is good at his job. He knows this; is very aware of this but it doesn’t make him happy. Not much can these days.

It’s hard to be content with the life of being a waiter at a twenty-four seven diner when you had planned out your entire hockey career during college. He thought he was going to make it far — get drafted and join the league, play for the teams that he’d been idolizing for years.

The accident tore those plans into shreds and Marc had quickly learned not to try gluing the pieces back together. His eyesight in the right eye was just shot now. There was no way he’d be able to track a puck and be aware of all his teammates on the ice. He wouldn’t be able to be a productive team player.

The one solace he had was the occasional presence of Henrik Lundqvist. It was the main reason that he was glad to have taken the late night/early morning shifts. Hank would sometimes come to the diner after games; looking tired but still somehow _perfect_ and order a coffee. The first few times Marc didn’t dare speak to him more than was necessary but by the fourth time, Hank had given him a smile and gestured to the empty booth across from himself and asked Marc to join him.

Conversations between them varied immensely. One topic blending into the next and Marc always felt a sense of accomplishment when he made Hank smile or laugh at something. 

Hank never pushed Marc for details about his accident. He knew Marc had played hockey but didn’t anymore. It had seemed to make him sad when he had found that information out.

The night has been long and Hank has been slowly drinking his coffee, eyes trained on Marc’s face. It’s a bit disconcerting to have someone like Hank stare as if they have you under a microscope but Marc doesn’t budge or turn his own gaze away; no, he’s too stubborn to do that.

Finally, Hank breaks the silence.

"You have off tomorrow, right?"

Marc nods, unsure of where this conversation will go.

"Good. I’m taking you skating tomorrow."

That takes Marc by surprise, mouth opening a bit to gape at Hank.

"No, I— I told you. I don’t skate."

Hank just smiles and touches the tips of his shoes to Marc’s under the table.

"Come on, Marc. Don’t reject me. I just want to take you out on a date. I promise to be sweet and walk you home and give you a gentlemanly kiss on the cheek when the night is over."

Marc turns a little red in the cheeks, dropping his gaze and mutters. “When you put it like that….”

He tries to ignore the look of triumph that overtakes Hank’s expression and definitely blocks out the fluttering sensation building in his chest at the excitement for tomorrow.

Maybe he does still have something to truly be happy about it in life.


	5. fake relationship au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops, i keep forgetting to update this with the drabbles i've written. have some more!!
> 
> Written for this [AU meme](http://hlundqvists.tumblr.com/post/93691541805/send-me-a-ship-and-a-number-and-ill-write-a-short-fic). Prompt was 'fake relationship au' from Ras.
> 
> Ras and I are actually working on expanding this into a fully fledged fic together~

Marc considers himself a fairly smart guy. He may not understand everything about how politics work and foreign affairs — then again, who does? — but this entire situation still seems a little too far-fetched to be real.

"I’m sorry, can you repeat that?"

"Mr. Staal, I thought we made this clear. Someone has to ma—"

He breaks in. “I have to marry Hank so he can stay in New York and keep playing with us or else he’s getting sent back to Sweden? Ihave to marry him? Out of everyone on the team, you all pick _me_?”

"Technically, Mr. Lundqvist picked you. Now if we could just go over some quick details before he arrives, that would make this meeting go a lot easier for all of us."

_Mr. Lundqvist picked you_.

The sentence makes him fall into a stunned silence and the lawyer takes the silence as an agreement to continue the discussion. Marc is barely listening, just nodding his head and muttering a “yeah, sure” when it seems needed.

He’s completely flabbergasted by the idea of Hank picking him for this. Out of everyone, why _him_? It doesn’t make sense.

Marc doesn’t speak much until finally — _about time_ — Hank arrives. 

He’s ready to question Hank aggressively, ask him why and how and **why** but the look on Hank’s face makes him hold back. 

Hank looks exhausted, a little sick even; to someone who spends as much time with him as Marc does, it’s easy to tell. The lawyers and PR people in the room doesn’t seem to notice as much.

Marc opens his mouth and what comes out is the complete opposite of what he thought he’d say, “Hank, I’ll do it.”

Everyone falls quiet in the room. Hank stares at Marc, Marc doesn’t look away.

"I’ll do it. I’ll marry you. We don’t need to have this whole big meeting now. It can wait, right? I agree to this. Let’s get married and work everything else out later."

Hank looks so relieved, like he just might cry.

"Thank you, Marc."

There’s some protesting that comes from the lawyer — tittering about how they really should get some of the terms of agreement down on paper. Marc ignores it and stands, going over to Hank and touches his arm.

"Let’s go pick up some food and talk about this at your place, yeah? Just you and me?"

Hank nods, leaning against Marc. The exhaustion showing clearly now.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

Marc smiles and moves his hand to the small of Hank’s back, gently guiding him from the room.

"We’ll figure this out."

Hank is quiet during the elevator ride to the lobby. He doesn’t speak until Marc is leading him to his car — Hank had taken a cab over — and gets into the passenger seat.

"I knew I could trust you."

Marc wasn’t prepared for the rush of emotion to be felt by those words from Hank and honestly, he can’t explain why he reaches over and holds Hank’s hand as they drive to Marc’s apartment.

It just feels…… oddly right.

Maybe there’s something to explore here, something beneath the surface that Marc has been ignoring.

Maybe Hank has known the whole time.

Maybe…… maybe this whole thing won’t be so bad after all.


	6. first(s)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both of these were written for the ['first time' meme](http://hlundqvists.tumblr.com/post/99959555460/firsts-fic-meme-send-me-a-pairing-and-a-first).

_first prank marc ever played on hank_ , prompted by ras;

Everyone tells him not to. They warn him that pranking the goalie is like committing a deadly sin; you won’t live to see the end of the day and Hellfire will be waiting to consume you.

Marc just laughs and ignores the warnings. He’s always gotten away with pranks. He’ll be fine. 

His first prank isn’t anything too extreme. He has to gauge Hank’s reaction to something simple. Then, he can build up from there. He’s waiting, just waiting for the reaction to come as he laces up his skates and pulls his gear on.

Soon enough, there’s a disgruntled shout from the other side of the locker room and Hank is pulling his mask off; hair covered in shaving cream, some of it dripping down onto his face.

Marc stifles his laugh. Hank looks ready to kill, glaring around the room.

"Who did this?"

No one speaks.

Marc feels a tiny shiver of fear at the murderous look on Hank’s face, but oh, that shiver is delightful too.

He cracks a grin.

Hank sees it and focuses the glare on him.

"I’m not going to forget this, Staal."

Marc just keeps smiling.

"I hope you don’t. You’re going to have to tell me how I improve with each new trick. A _proper_ review after every single one.”

Hank’s glare falters for a brief second, something else creeping into his expression.

He doesn’t say another word, just marches out to the showers to rinse out his helmet and hair.

Marc feels like he just won a small victory, but he’s not quite sure what that victory is just yet.

Time will tell.

||

_first 'we're so married' moment_ , prompted by abbey;

They bicker. _A lot_.

Marc likes to push Hank’s buttons, likes being the one who gets under Hank’s skin and makes him clench his fists and gnash his teeth. It gives Marc this odd sense of pride at being the one to get those reactions from Hank.

Neither of them really notices the underlying meaning to the bickering — that there is a significance to it — until one of the guys points it out.

Hank’s pulling on his pads, yelling at Marc; something about keeping things clean and fresh and who knows where this argument even came from today.

Kreider comes to a halt in front of Marc, grinning a little while gesturing at Hank.

"You really just can’t give up the honeymoon phase with him, can you?"

Marc stares at Kreider, who just winks and heads out to the ice for warm ups.

Hank has fallen silent, peering at Marc with an almost cautious look.

Marc doesn’t know if he should something to break the tension, unsure of what he would say.

They both speak at the same time.

"You know he’s righ—"

"He’s right about tha—"

Marc grins, Hank laughs.

"Come on, _husband_.” There’s a teasing in Hank’s voice, but something in his eyes gives away the real fondness that’s felt. “We’re going to be the last ones on the ice.”

Marc grabs his stick, gives Hank a light whack on the pads and heads out with a wide smile on his face.


	7. cuddles & band au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First one written for the [cuddles meme](http://hlundqvists.tumblr.com/post/100614533375/cuddles-hugs-meme). Second one for an [AU meme](http://hlundqvists.tumblr.com/post/101675471725/tell-themstories-taken-from-several-au-posts).

_post-sex cuddles_ , prompted by nicole;

Marc always thinks that Hank looks beautiful regardless of the moment. No matter what, Hank just always looks so…. perfect.

Still, there’s something about Hank in the afterglow that just strikes Marc as simply _stunning_.

The soft flush that is still clinging to Hank’s cheek, the way his hair is a tangled mess, chest rising and falling steadily as he catches his breath. There’s an intense sense of calm that surrounds Hank in those moments. 

He goes from being this commanding force — breaths panted out into Marc’s lips as he thrusts just right and brings Marc full pleasure — to this calm, sated being who just lets go. There’s no urgency for control anymore. Hank is just happy to let Marc move him and Marc feels a fluttering in his chest at that.

His favorite thing to do is nudge Hank over onto his side and press up against his back, spooning him close and pressing kisses along the span of his shoulders.

Hank sighs and relaxes back against Marc, body loose and calm. The peace felt after letting go evident on Hank’s face. 

Marc loves this so very much, loves that he’s the one who gets to see Hank with his walls down. Hank is vulnerable like this in Marc’s arms, but Marc will never take advantage of that vulnerability.

He will just do what he always does. He’ll hold Hank close and whisper soft ‘ _thank you_ 's mixed with ' _i love you_ 's into Hank's ear and enjoy the sensation of having Hank so fully _calm_ and _open_ against him.

It’s a beautiful moment that he never ever wants to end.

||

_you’re the ~~drummer~~ guitarist for my friend’s band and i find you really hot au_ , prompted by ras;

Marc considers himself to be a really great friend. He’s an _amazing_ friend. Hell, he’d go so far as to call himself the most incredible best friend to ever grace the face of the Earth. Who else would go to see Cam perform with his band for **every single show** if not the most amazing best friend ever?

It’s not like Marc has ulterior motives for going to each show. He’s just there to support and cheer his friend on. There’s nothing hidden to his reasons for showing up early and making sure that he gets a spot close to the stage. He just wants to be a good friend and be supportive!

That’s all.

There’s definitely no influence on his decision to go to each show by the existence of Henrik Lundqvist.

Nope. Marc hasn’t noticed the guitarist at all. He doesn’t spend each show with his gaze fixed on Hank, wondering how those fingers would feel strumming against his skin so tenderly like that.

Marc is in no way at all infatuated with the guitarist of his best friend’s band. Not even a little.

So he’s definitely not feeling like he’s walking on air the night that Hank locks his gaze on Marc’s for the entire show and mouths the words, _this is for you_ , at him.

And he’s definitely not praising God for existing when Hank pulls him into the bathroom after the show and shoves him up against the wall and kisses him breathless, jerking him off fast and rough and so _nice_ and proving Marc’s theory that Hank’s hands are a thing to be worshiped.

He doesn’t even realize that Hank left a mark on his neck until Cam points it out the next day with a sly grin.

"You could have just asked him out from the start. You don’t have to come to the shows all the time, man. I know you only go to see him."

Marc tries not to think about the way Hank felt pressed up against him or the taste of Hank’s lips against his.

He can’t lie and say he goes to the shows for Cam only, he can’t even deny it anymore.

Maybe he does really have a thing for the guitarist of his best friend’s band.

_Maybe_.

He’s not going to admit it out loud just yet.


	8. please listen to me-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for [this meme](http://hlundqvists.tumblr.com/post/121875981195/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-line-of-dialogue-and-ill). prompt came from holly and was, 'please listen to me-'.

“Hank.”

No response is given. Not even an inclination at being heard.

“ _Hank_.”

Still… nothing.

Marc sighs heavily, leaning against the counter as he watches Hank move around the kitchen, blatantly ignoring any attempt Marc makes to start a conversation. 

“You’re going to burn the bacon.”

Hank just scoffs, shooting a slight glare at Marc. He still says nothing. Marc is…. somewhat amused. It’s cute, in an odd way; Hank getting all huffy, wanting to prove that he can successfully cook _something_ and not ruin it entirely.

Marc would indulge him on any other day, but the burning smell of bread is reaching his nostrils and he really doesn’t want to have to do with the smoke detectors going off.

“Hank, come on. Please listen to me-”

Hank cuts him off with a very stern glare and a finger jabbing at his chest.

“I can make breakfast for you _on my own_. I don’t need help. I won’t burn anything.”

He looks so serious, so desperate to prove this simple thing to Marc that all Marc can do is sigh and bite his tongue.

“Fine, okay. Just don’t expect me to deal with the smoke detectors when they go off.”

(It’s inevitable from the start that the alarms eventually do go off and Marc does take care of them. Only because Hank is too busy cursing out the toaster. It’s cute. It really is. And when he takes a breath between curses, Marc is there to pull him in for a sweet kiss.)

(Eventually breakfast is forgotten altogether.)


	9. things you said when you were drunk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for [this meme](http://hlundqvists.tumblr.com/post/121875969090/send-me-a-ship-and-one-of-these-and-ill-write-a). prompt was, 'things you said when you were drunk'.

It’s easier for words to slip out of Hank’s mouth once he’s had a few drinks. He feels lighter, more at ease, after a few when he’s out with the team. 

It doesn’t seem as big of a deal when he’s warm and buzzed and decides to press himself close to Marc’s side. It’s just easier when he’s not entirely sober to let himself show his neediness for Marc.

There’s no hesitation, no worried pause as he rests his chin on Marc’s shoulder and declares against Marc’s jaw, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

Marc just snorts and pushes his face away with a firm hand, tells him to go get more drinks. 

Hank laughs and does.

\- - -

No one can ever predict what words will come out of Hank’s mouth after he’s had a few. 

Sometimes it’s deeply romantic declarations of love that Hank would never say in front of others sober for a million years. Sometimes it’s sad words of disappointment over losing that everyone pretends they haven’t heard.

Except Marc.

Marc always hears every word and makes sure to remember them when Hank can’t.

\- - -

“Have I told you lately how much I fucking love you?”

Marc laughs, his arms wrapped tight around Hank as they sway together slowly, ignoring the sounds of the party around them.

“I don’t think you have. Remind me?”

Hank turns his neck, pressing his nose to Marc’s cheek and just breathes for a minute, shoulders tensing up a bit as he appears to think very hard on what words to use.

“I…. fucking love you. A lot. A whole lot.”

Marc is laughing again, turning his head to catch Hank’s lips in a kiss.

“I love you, too. Even when you’re drunk and get sappy on me.”

Hank purrs and kisses him again.

\- - -

“Hey, do I have to get you drunk to say your vows at the wedding or can you actually handle being sappily romantic while sober?”

Hank lifts his head, eyebrows pinched together, as he looks at Marc questioningly.

“What do you mean?”

Marc doesn’t sound upset or accusatory. Just… amused.

“You get super sappy when you get drunk, babe. Have you not noticed?” Hank shakes his head and Marc grins. “You do. It makes me wonder if you can handle being cheesy and romantic when sober.”

There’s a challenge there in Marc’s voice, and also maybe….. maybe a hint of doubt, of worry that Hank immediately wants to erase completely.

Hank moves over towards him, grabs him by the hips, pulling him close. His lips brush against Marc’s, a smile quirking at his lips.

“Just try me.”


	10. things you said when you thought i was asleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for [this meme](http://hlundqvists.tumblr.com/post/121875969090/send-me-a-ship-and-one-of-these-and-ill-write-a). prompt was, 'things you said when you thought i was asleep'.
> 
> slight warning for this one: it takes place after marc's eye injury, he's still in the hospital and on pain meds. if that isn't your cup of tea, then just skip over this one~

Hank doesn’t want to leave Marc’s side. It doesn’t matter that Marc is asleep on the hospital bed; bandage around his eye, chest rising and falling slowly as he breathes. 

Hank doesn’t want to leave. He makes it clear to the nurse, keeping his voice low but tone so, _so_ stern. Stubborn. And a little bit tired.

“I want to be with him if he wakes up during the night. I don’t want him to be alone for that.”

(Marc hears that. He’s not actually truly sleeping. He’s just… floating and his eyelids feel far too heavy to open. He doesn’t fully comprehend what Hank is saying to the nurse. Be alone for _what_? Waking up? He’s done that his entire life before Hank.)

The nurse relents, tells Hank he can stay. But only for tonight. She makes that clear. Hank says thank you nearly a hundred times in one breath as he pulls a chair closer to Marc’s bed.

(Marc feels it as Hank touches his hand. He wants to turn his hand over, press his palm to Hank’s and twine their fingers together. But he can’t. Just like his eyelids, his hand feels _too heavy_.)

“You scared me today, älskling. I was so scared.”

Hank moves his fingers over Marc’s hand, tracing over his knuckles. He keeps his touch so gentle, so light. It’s almost as if he’s scared Marc will break.

( _Why? What scared you?_ Marc wants to ask, but every part of his body is just _too damn heavy_. He doesn’t understand. Maybe this is just some elaborate dream. Maybe he actually is sleeping.)

“I’m going to keep you safe from now on,” Hank’s voice wavers a bit, his fingers brushing against Marc’s ring finger. “I promise I will. You’re _mine_. You’re mine and under my protection and I’m going to keep you safe.”

(Marc wants to laugh. He wants to open his eyes and look at Hank and laugh and say, _You know that’s ridiculous. Stop being dramatic, you’ll never get an Oscar for this performance_. But he just. can’t.)

Hank keeps talking, shifting on the chair. It’s not comfortable to sit on, but he’s prepared to spend the night on it.

“I’m not going to leave your side for any of this. I don’t….. I don’t care what you say when you wake up. I know you’re going to try to push me away at first but I’m telling you now that I won’t _let_ you. I’m going to stay here. I’m not going anywhere, Marc. I promise you that.”

(Marc still doesn’t understand. His limbs are so heavy. He’s slipping away into sleep now.)

Hank moves forward, brushing his lips against Marc’s cheek.

“Jag älskar dig, älskling. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

(Marc is actually asleep before Hank finishes speaking.)

(When he wakes up later near one in the morning - _truly_ wakes up - and tries to open both his eyes and finds that he can’t, he panics. And Hank is there. Just like he said he would be.

Hank stays through it all. 

He never repeats his promise when Marc is conscious to hear it.

Marc never tells him that he heard the promise. It just doesn’t seem important, not when Hank is staying true to his word.

Marc has never loved him more.)


End file.
